


Flaws

by CinderPoppy (salamanderssmile)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Emotional Constipation, Graphic Description of Corpses, Idiots in Love, M/M, Shen being autistic and Jhin being a BITCH, and Zed being gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 14:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14979305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamanderssmile/pseuds/CinderPoppy
Summary: Still on the trail of Khada Jhin, the ninjas are faced with both a chilling discovery and their own emotional obstacles.





	Flaws

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShimadaGenji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShimadaGenji/gifts).



> it's a sequel to Warmth! but can be read individually, i suppose.

One, two, three, four. He counted his steps and started again. One, two, three, four. It didn't matter that he was moving in the same direction. His march was a cadence, a perfect timing for a silent song. One, two, three, four. A bar of his endless music. He crossed the city square under the setting sun, his gold glistening a most harmonious picture. Doing things in the dark of night, after all, was simply so cliché. Though he wasn't meant to get caught, this performance was special. It was for more than the ambassador: it was also for the ninjas chasing him. He knew of them, but most importantly, he knew them. Kusho’s young boys. Most curious how they worked together, given what had happened. And all because of him. The pleasure he felt at knowing that was second only to the satisfaction of finishing a masterpiece. His own private audience. Lovely.

Jhin reached the house of the shopkeeper and knocked on the wooden door. His unremarkable face was more than surprised at the hunched man on his doorstep, face covered by a leather mask and covered with a cape. His manners, so predictably welcoming, ushered in the stranger with confused smiles. It seemed he lived by himself, a disappointment. Jhin was hoping for… a bigger spectacle. Alas, he would simply have to do grandly with one pigment to his painting. They sat in the living room, the shopkeeper hurrying to serve tea and offer it, only to see the mask covering Jhin’s mouth staring right back. His clear discomfort was enough to bring an initial spark of satisfaction to the artist’s heart. He counted to four for the forty eighth time since he entered the house. It was time.

One, Jhin pulled out his gun, clean and shining and ready. Two, he aimed as the shopkeeper’s discomfort turned to terror. Three, he shot, the magical bullet rippling through the air. Four, he smiled as the corpse fell to the ground, ready for the work to truly begin. The man would owe him a favor. From his dullness, Jhin would make art. A far more acceptable fate than life. At least for that canvas.

 

They arrived in the middle of the night. Hidden from sight, a shadow and a ghost. Slinking through the streets, silent steps, silent breaths. Not even the rustling of clothes to be heard. Shen knew they were late. He had heard it, like a breathless cry across the planes. The death, and its less than usual cause. But they were close, enough that he heard it at all. Enough that there was a pattern beginning to unravel. Curiosity made him eager, and he had to stop himself, lest his balance be upset. Jhin had his way of worming into Shen’s brain, prodding without even being around. The Eye of Twilight felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance. He forced himself to breathe slow as he continued onwards, following Zed.

The Master of Shadows had sent his students ahead of him after Shen had pointed them the direction. They scouted the area until they found the victim, Khada Jhin’s unfortunate “canvas”. The two ninjas had been contacted halfway to the city, and had dropped all pretenses of a disguise. Zed was eager to find that monster again, and his eagerness put a sprint in his step. The district’s streets were deserted at that time of night, save for a few drunks and beggars. Seemed like a richer part of town to Zed. The houses were large, with colorful gardens. He slid through their shadows, barely more than a dark silhouette, blending, melting into the darkness. It was thrilling, feeling the cold humming of the dark on his fingertips.

They reached the square and slowed to a stop. Right across from them was the house where Zed’s students had found the body. They needed to go in before someone else did. Yet, it was difficult not to hesitate. They had seen many horrors, and Khada Jhin had certainly caused enough of them. So they stopped, side by side, shrouded in secrecy as they looked to the supposed house. It was unassuming, commonly woven, old and looking slightly out of place. Boring, came to Zed’s mind. The kind of boring Jhin would die to make his gruesome art in. The assassin had always seemed gaudy to him. Over the top, too dramatic. If Shen knew of his thoughts, he would certainly laugh at the irony. But Shen didn't need to know anything. Not yet, anyways.

When they finally reached the house, the door was unlocked. Zed knew the place had been found as Jhin had left it; he had instructed his students to not touch anything. The hinges didn't creak when they pushed the door open. It led into a kitchen, a comfortable and small room, smelling strongly of tea and wood. It had been left pristine by the assassin. From where they stood, they could see the living room, and that's where the true art was. A distorted body was sat on an armchair. In the dark, it was hard to distinguish the true state of the poor victim, but one thing was unavoidable to see. His mouth had been torn open, head almost divided into two. There was a teacup sitting on his tongue, and a teapot on his hands. It was all meticulously arranged, clearly the creation of someone who cared for it. They had no doubt it had been Jhin.

“We are close.” Shen muttered, perhaps feeling the need to be quiet still.

“ _ Closer _ .” Zed shot back, eyes narrowed as he stared at the corpse in front of them. “But not close enough.”

“He can't be far, at least.” The Eye of Twilight shrugged in a surprising display of indifference, though his breathing was irregular.

“But we don't know where he’s  _ going _ .” Zed’s hands curled into angry fists, frustration bubbling in the pit of his stomach. “We haven't caught him.”

“No, but we will.” Shen gave out a certainty that would easily sway other men, but not the Master of Shadows. He was far too used to it.

Huffing, Zed approached the corpse, looking for clues of where Jhin might be going next. He found nothing but the damn bullet, resting in the teacup. The kind of bullet with magic infused through and through; clearly not fired from a Piltover gun. He had only ever seen its kind when fired by high grade Ionian weaponry. He supposed it was only fitting for Jhin to be using one, considering the powers behind his release. Nonetheless, Zed was still intrigued  to why the assassin wasn't using blades, as he did the first time the ninjas were on his trail. He wondered if it was Jhin’s choice, or something asked of him. Guns and bullets were more fickle than blades; harder to control the outcome of a shot than of a slash. It said something about Jhin that he could still do his “art” with such an instrument. Zed could have admired him, in another life, where his hatred towards the assassin wasn't overwhelming.

“We won't find anything here.” Zed said, stepping away from the body and towards Shen. “Well, nothing more. We should leave before they blame us.”

Shen only nodded, giving space to the other ninja and falling into step beside him. They walked out of the house and into the moonlit square. They had no place to rest at, having ran to the city instead of arriving a day too late. So they left, first in the shadows, Shen shimmering out of physicality as Zed melted into darkness until the red of his eyes were the only thing left. When they were far away enough from the house so as to not rouse suspicion, they stepped back into light. To the outside view, they seemed like nothing but a pair of merchants, maybe even friends. The streets seemed more lively in that part of town. Drunks stumbling in and out of inns gave them an idea of where they could stop. One place in particular, stocky looking in a way that made it look like a pumpkin, had an alleyway by its side. Zed looked into it, suspicious, and then recoiled, nose furrowed.

“Found the bathroom.” He said, clearly upset by the odor

“Have you?” Shen asked back, one eyebrow raising in amusement.

“Unfortunately.” Zed’s expression was a deep scowl, mock offended.

Shen’s only answer was to smile back, small and intimate. It made the other ninja blink rapidly, as if surprised. Shen realized he probably was. He felt warmth well up in his chest, directed at none other than Zed. But Zed had killed his father, and the very memory made anger bubble up in his heart. The emotional confusion threatened to give him a headache. He stopped thinking about it as Zed, head low, hurriedly walked towards the stocky inn. Shen felt his face school itself back into stoicism as they entered the place. He calmly waited for Zed to arrange for rooms, standing behind the other ninja, alert for something he wasn't sure what was. Once Zed nodded with a strained smile at the innkeeper, taking two keys and giving one to Shen, the Eye of Twilight turned to follow closely behind him.

They parted in a hallway, their doors one in front of the other. Once inside the room, Shen took a deep breath, dumped his bag in the corner, and sat between the bed and the door, facing the latter. Closing his eyes, he focused on the cadence of his own heartbeats, the rhythm of his breaths. It helped him clear his mind, wrap up all the thoughts and blow them away. At a blank slate, he could look at things in perspective. It was hard. Unraveling his feelings was hard; letting them go, even worse. All the mess of anger and tenderness he felt towards Zed clung to him and his insides like tree sap. They stuck to everything they touched, leaving behind indelible marks. But Shen persisted, slowly scrapping them away, trying to find balance in emptiness once more.

Rustling of cloth outside his door pulled him out of his meditation, immediately alert to a possible threat. Yet all that came was a hesitant knock on the door, as if the person outside didn't really know if they wanted to go in. Shen hoped it was simply a nervous server there to ask if he needed anything. He didn't want to hold an actual conversation right then. Regardless, he rose to his feet, opening the door to see, with some annoyance, none other than Zed. The Master of Shadows stood there, doing his best to avoid looking Shen in the eyes, until he took a deep breath and did it. Shen would always admire Zed’s willpower; it often felt bigger than his own.

“May I?” The ninja asked, pointing to the inside of the room in a request to go in.

“Now is… not the time.” Shen answered, weary and slightly angry at the interruption. Shaking his head, he was already partway to closing the door.

“No, we need to talk.” Zed frowned, holding the door open with his hand. “He knows we're coming for him.”

“What?” The Eye of Twilight barely showed any surprise on his face, but his heart was racing. Surely Zed wasn't being serious, only wanted to annoy him.

“He left a bullet for us.” Opening the door was easy once Shen’s arms went slack. The Master of Shadows stepped around the other ninja, walking over to the bed to sit on it.

“What do you mean?” Shen asked, quiet, as he closed and locked the door, turning back to Zed.

“He realized someone is coming for him. If he knows who we are…” The red gaze fixed, fuming, on Shen’s eyes, as the ninja continued through gritted teeth. “If he remembers, he will do worse. You know how much he values an  _ audience _ .”

“This is his play, and he's the protagonist.” Shen frowned, rubbing his forehead in anger and confusion. Khada Jhin was a horrible mystery he had no intention of unraveling.

“He left a calling card. The bullet.” Zed produced the object from the folds in his clothes. “He knew we would find it.”

“How?” The traces of magic still lingered around the bullet, washing over Shen’s fingers as he reached for it. Zed’s hand was cold as he handed the bullet to him.

“Bastard has contacts. Powerful ones.” Zed huffed, rolling his eyes. “Our eyes aren't really that subtle.”

“Hah!” Shen laughed, a short thing that became a small smile. When he looked back at the other man, Zed’s red eyes were fixed wide on his face. His pale cheeks dusted pink as he looked away, sighing.

“That was all, I suppose.” Zed said as he rose to his feet, walking towards the door. Halfway through opening it, he stopped, looking at Shen over his shoulder. “You know, I missed it. Your smile.”

The Eye of Twilight was left speechless in his room, frowning and feeling as though he was drowning in the air he breathed. His mind was flooded with memories of Zed - his father’s _murderer_ , his old best friend - holding him as he cried, broke down. He didn't want Zed to go, tried to justify it by saying the Master of Shadows helped him stay balanced, somehow. That he helped unravel the mess of emotions he himself had caused in his head; but Shen knew that was too contradictory to be true. He simply wanted, for once. Before he knew it, his door was open and his hand was reaching for the man across the hallway.

“Stay here tonight.” Shen heard his mouth say without him telling it to.

“Shen?” Zed was frowning, but his eyes shone with… something.

“Stay here tonight.” This time he was the author of the words.

“Alright…” Zed reached for his hand, fingers ghosting over his before loosely grasping them. “Alright.”

Zed smiled, and Shen smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> this too is a title after a Bastille song


End file.
